Too much fun was had by all last night as a group of Indian, Norwegian, Taiwanese, San Franciscan, Boston Irish/Italian, French and English joined some Persian friends for their New Years celebration in a local restaurant. There was a set dinner menu, very good singing group (though I couldn't understand a word) and a splendid Belly Dancer.
More wine than was sensible for a Sunday evening event led to fuzzy heads this morning. My throat was raw from shouting over the music, but I have to say we had a blast. Most of us joined in the dancing,eventually, which is not an every day occurrence. My Moo-ves are of the California Happy Cow variety; not much evolved from the late seventies. When I heard the Iranian version of "I Will Survive" pounding away I couldn't resist having a go. I tried to get someone from our group to join in but it was early in the festivities and the self consciousness hadn't worn off yet. After two dozen refusals a great-spirited Persian beauty from another table offered to jiggle and strut with me, which was a hugely kind and generous gesture. All flashing eyes, raven hair and graceful arms, (her, not me!) but more than anything a friendly disposition.
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